Page 123 of Lady of the Lake

Mordred bursts back into the room carrying a wooden bowl with a green paste in it. “Apply this to the wound. Clean it and put on a new batch of paste every half hour. I’m going to go deal with the dragon. She’s bleeding, too, you know. It’s like you don’t even care about the dragon.”

Guilt knots in my chest. “Right. Thanks. Be careful, though. She can be dangerous when she’s injured.”

“I am Mordred, son of Morgan. I know how to talk to dragons. You take care of your prince.” He marches back out, his dark, fur-lined cape trailing behind him.

Gently, I apply the salve to Talan’s wound. It smells of fresh earth and mint, and spreads a relaxing scent in the room.

I got it from Nimuë, just the other day.How strange that my father actually knew them both—the two other thirds that make my power whole.

Talan’s eyes open. “Wherearewe? It feels like home.”

I smile at him. He’s never been here before, but he feels it anyway, the Fey connection to this island. “Avalon. You are home.”

CHAPTER 56

“Nia.”

My eyes flutter open, and I wake to find myself slumped in a soft, velvety chair. I spent a day and a night taking care of Talan, cooling his fever, applying the balm. Finally, I must have nodded off in exhaustion.

Now, I’m waking to the sound of his deep, velvet-tinged voice calling my name.

He’s sitting on the side of the bed, shirtless and watching me. And right now, he looks like absolute perfection.

I smile at him. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone cut me in half, but also much better than before.” He picks up a glass of water from the bedside table and drains it.

My gaze sweeps down his bare chest. The skin is now healed over, the only sign of his grisly injury a deep red slash over his abs. Pure, unbridled relief cascades through me. He’s recovering.

He really will be okay.

He sets the glass of water down and frowns at me. “Where are we? I had the most insane dream that you said we were in Avalon.”

I smile. “We are. In Mordred’s castle.”

“And he’s alive. All this time.” He stares. “The dark prince who cursed my mother.”

Mordred strides into the room, eyes locked on him. “King, now, in fact. And I’m not the one who condemned your mother to death by burning. That was yourrotten father, the two of you claiming a royal lineage that was alwaysmine.”

I clear my throat. “Remember that we’re allies. Weallwant to dethrone Auberon.”

Talan turns slowly, watching my father. Around strangers, he gives nothing away. Whatever he’s feeling, it’s buried deeply. His expression is guarded as he meets Mordred’s gaze, cool, level, and assessing.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” asks Talan. “You’re not my grandfather, not Auberon’s father. It was all a lie.”

Mordred shrugs. “Is it so hard to believe?”

“Not at all. Lying comes as naturally to him as breathing.”

Mordred takes a step closer. “You’re Merlin’s grandson. Merlin and Nimuë, who made that balm that saved you. Wondrous woman. Absolutely lovely. Wise. Your grandfather was a pompous prick, though. He’s trapped in the heart of an oak, you know. That was your grandmother’s doing. I just said to her the other day…” He trails off. “Well, it was a few centuries ago, but I said, you do not want to feel the sting of Nimuë’s wrath. You know, I believe Merlin is still conscious in that oak. Which he deserves.”

I clear my throat. “Plenty of time for family drama later. We have to stop the dragon attack. We’ve got a day, maybe less, before Auberon tries to burn down Bristol and gods know what else.”

Mordred straightens his crown. “Yes, yes. I’ve been watching Castle Perillos for a while. So, what are we going to do about it?”

Talan pulls on a black shirt. “I don’t think Auberon will launch the attack without me.”

Mordred shakes his head. “My little spy moth tells me otherwise. He plans to send the dragons tomorrow whether you are there or not.”

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